


in a guess world

by littledust



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-29
Updated: 2015-01-29
Packaged: 2018-03-09 13:24:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3251342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littledust/pseuds/littledust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gaze never wavering, Ariadne catches her totem before it falls off the table.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in a guess world

**Author's Note:**

  * For [metonymy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/metonymy/gifts).



> For the prompt, "I have to learn to let you crash down."

Gaze never wavering, Ariadne catches her totem before it falls off the table.

Instantly, the mark and all of his projections relax, going back to quiet study. Ariadne lets her shoulders untense just a fraction, rolling her totem in the palm of her hand. A chess piece probably isn't out of place in a college library, but this mark suffers from paranoid delusions. Extractor teams have gone into Daniel Wood's mind before and come back without information, infected by the landscape of his mind. Everywhere Ariadne looks, the light refracts oddly at the corners, hinting at something lurking just beyond her sight.

She could feel sorry for him, or furious that his mind snapped only after he stole charity donations and hid the money away. Instead, she thinks of him as _the mark_ and trusts the labyrinth to do its work. She has to, she couldn't take anyone else this deep.

"There's this problem set I can't solve," she says, pushing her notebook toward him.

It doesn't matter that reading is difficult in dreams. The mark was a tutor once, attended Ivy League schools on merit disguised as old family money. The name was the only thing left, hence the theft from charity. Ariadne smiles when he slides the notebook back across the table. She tucks it into her bag without looking. "Thanks. I'll definitely pass now."

Ariadne gets up and walks away from the table, slow but not too slow. She's stepping off the window ledge before a projection even turns her way.

\--and gasp. And breathe out, then in, then out again.

"Paper," Ariadne says, but Arthur has a real notebook at the ready. He watches her, eyes steady, as she scribbles down names and passwords and countries. "Done," she says, and clicks the pen to emphasize the word. She passes the notebook back to Arthur.

"You kept us waiting," Eames says, voice and eyes mild. "Still feel like yourself?"

If it were anyone else asking the question, Ariadne would snap. She's had too much field experience for that kind of coddling. But Eames knows a few things about _not being yourself_ , so never mind that Arthur and Yusuf are watching her as well, waiting for her answer.

"It's just sad," Ariadne says, casting a glance at their sleeping mark. "His condition, the choices he made, everything. He can never take it back." She blinks, and shoves a stray piece of hair out of her eyes. Suddenly she's ravenous. "But anyway, he chose it, so let's get out of here." Her stomach growls in agreement.

"Well, all systems appear normal," Yusuf says, patting their mark on the shoulder. He isn't talking about Daniel Wood's pulse. Ariadne casts him a smile before she opens the door.

"We have half an hour before he comes to," Arthur says. "There's a vending machine down the hall."

Ariadne squeezes his hand once, in acknowledgment, in thanks, in something she can't even name. _Choices,_ she thinks, and heads toward the vending machine, which only asks her to choose a snack.


End file.
